Fading
by Bobbie23
Summary: Everything fades, sometimes you need something to remind you.


Fading

Your memory of her is fading.

At least it feels like it is.

There are days when you wake up and wonder whether it will finally be the day when you won't think of her at all. It doesn't happen though. There's always something that reminds you of her; whether it be a siren which reminds you of chasing through the city after a perp with her or the smell of your daughter's tea and you remember that early morning sitting on your stoop when you had your chance and never took it. She was so close that morning and you let her slip away just like you had let Kathy go just hours before. It was too soon for you even though you knew she would have been receptive if you had the balls to make your move. You always needed more time. Even in the end, you still wanted more time despite being the one who decided to cut all ties.

Today, it's the sound of her voice, so clear that it drags you out of your office. You stop in your doorway when you realise your secretary is watching a news clip on her phone. You shouldn't, you've gone this long without giving into your ever present curiosity but you try to reason that once won't hurt so you crane your neck as much as you can so your secretary doesn't notice you but your eyesight isn't what it used to be and you have to step forward to be able to see the small screen. You're immediately drawn into the scene. You don't hear the words so much as watch her mouth form them. Her lips seem to move in slow motion and you have no idea what she's saying. It doesn't matter.

You've avoided watching the news for this very reason, you knew what it would do to you. A possessiveness overcomes you, just like it always has. You want to close the distance between you and your secretary and reach over her shoulder and snatch the phone away. You don't because you don't want to explain to her that you sat across a desk from the woman on the screen for more than a decade or that Olivia would laugh at the way she makes your coffee or she would laugh at you for accepting it with the extra sugar she puts in that you hate.

On screen Olivia pauses as she considers the question a journalist just asked her. You take the chance to look at her, really look at her. You haven't had the chance to do this in years and that's all on you, you know that and take all responsibility for it. You walked away and she tried to contact you but you were too embarrassed to answer or return her calls. In the years since you've had the chance to think about it and you regret how you left things, and you'll always regret not saying goodbye but it's been too long to do anything about it. You know Olivia, know what she thinks of you now. You've become what you never thought you would, something you loathe; you've become another one to abandon her.

She looks tired. It's more than the case she's discussing with the press, you know that. She's weary. She's lost that spark and you can't help but wonder what caused it or when she lost it. You don't see Cragen or Munch, only Fin as he stands in the background. There are two others standing nearby, not as close as Fin, who you don't recognise.

You've tried to stay away from anyone who could give you any information about the situation in the Unit or Olivia. In this city that's harder than it sounds but somehow you've managed it. And you're not the only one who has adopted that rule. It's been a silent agreement between you, Kathy and the kids not to mention anything from your time on the force. That includes Olivia. You don't even mention her to your therapist because you don't want to answer questions you don't have the answer to even though you've been asking yourself for years. The only who ever broke that rule was Kathleen who was glued to her phone when Olivia was abducted.

That you knew about.

You scoured all you could during those days she was missing and it took everything in you not to burst into the squad and demand to know what was happening. You had never been more relieved than when to hear Kathleen utter "she's fine" when it was all over. You knew it wasn't over though, you knew what Olivia was about to put herself through. You feel guilty for not being there for her but you know she would either slam the door in your face or deflect the conversation to you so she wouldn't have to talk about it.

The press conference is coming to a close and you want to do something, anything to delay it. You need more time. You don't have it.

If you could do it all differently, you would. In your head you've gone back a million times to say goodbye, you've hugged for the third and final time, discreetly inhaled her perfume because you knew it would be the last time. You wouldn't tell her she was the best partner you ever had because neither of you said things like that. You would try to explain you just couldn't do the job anymore and that you had to walk away. You would try to explain it wasn't about her without it sounding clichéd, because in the end it wasn't. It was about you and not being able to deal with how you felt about having to shoot an innocent kid.

You're brought out of your musing as the screen goes blank and your secretary shuts off her phone. You open your mouth to tell her to turn it back on, you just need a moment to commit everything to memory so you won't forget but you don't. You can't. You know you'll be drawn back in. She starts to straighten her desk. You shuffle in the doorway, not ready to go back into your office just yet. She lets out a short yelp when she notices you frowning. Apparently you were stealthier than you intended to be.

"Mr Stabler, did you need something?" She asks when she's gotten over her shock.

"No."

Yes


End file.
